


Monsters Live In Villages Too

by BlaiddGwyn (dragonLeighs)



Series: Jaskier Whump Week [6]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Beating, Gen, Hurt Jaskier | Dandelion, Injured Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier Whump Week (The Witcher), Jaskier | Dandelion Whump, Kidnapping, Minor Injuries, Protective Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:00:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25613212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonLeighs/pseuds/BlaiddGwyn
Summary: Geralt and Jaskier are running low on coin. Needing to take a contract, they venture into a village where witchers are despised. While Geralt goes out to solve their monster problem, the villagers decide to pay him back by abducting his bard.Written for Day 6 of Jaskier whump week. Prompt: Hatred
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Jaskier Whump Week [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1847923
Comments: 3
Kudos: 147
Collections: Jaskier Whump Week





	Monsters Live In Villages Too

**Author's Note:**

> Originally I was going to go with the other prompt, insecurities. It was almost finished but the whole thing felt uninteresting and kinda rushed so I wrote this instead. I'll probably rewrite the original one day and hopefully do it justice to how I had planned it.
> 
> I hope this one does ok since it was very much a last minute thing for today's prompt :)

The village they found themselves in was know to be hostile to witchers. That in and of itself wasn’t unusual. Many places still saw witchers as monsters, despite Jaskier’s work to change popular opinion. They had posted a notice calling for a witcher to help with their monster problem and the pay seemed fairly decent, no matter how much the people might resent Geralt's presence. If they had more coin they probably wouldn’t have even set foot in the place, but their supplies were running low and the next village was a few days away.

Geralt had gone to the alderman to negotiate his pay and gather more information. He had insisted the bard should stay behind. Hence why Jaskier was now sitting in the dingy tavern with an ale that tasted like piss. He might usually ask if he would be allowed to play a few songs for coin but the glares from the locals told him they would hardly appreciate it. So he simply sat and waited for the witcher to return. Geralt has assured him he would be back by the time the sun had set. The the village didn’t seem to have an inn, but he doubted they would be staying the night even if they did. It was clear they only hired a witcher because they were desperate. 

Evening fell and the tavern began to fill up, farmers coming in after a hard day’s work. For the most part Jaskier went unnoticed, the occasional glance thrown at the brightly dressed newcomer but nothing else. It felt strange. Usually he was loud and talkative, engaging with the locals and playing rowdy songs everyone could sing and dance to. On the few nights he didn’t play, strangers would still approach him and ask him questions about his songs or the witcher himself. Instead he tried to make himself as uninteresting as possible to avoide their icy stares.

It wasn’t until the sun had fully set that he began to feel uncomfortable. Geralt still hadn't returned from the hunt. A large group of men had gathered in the far corner and kept looking over at him, as though they expected him to grow a second head. They talked amongst themselves in hushed voices and Jaskier felt the urge to leave.

Geralt had left Roach at the stable nearby instead of taking her with him. He should probably take her and find somewhere to make camp. Geralt would be mad she had been taken from the stable but it would be worse if he left her behind. In a place like this, the villagers were just as likely to steal her and sell their belongings as leave her alone if she was left unattended.

His mind made up, he stood and headed for the door. He felt the eyes of the men following him, burning into his back as he left. Once outside he took in a deep breath, the fresh air going some way to calming his nerves. He vaguely remembered the way to the stable and set off.

Shortly after leaving he heard the door to the tavern slam open and several people exit. “Where do you think you’re going, bard?” one man called out. Jaskier stopped in his tracks, quickly schooling his face into a mask of indifference before turning to face them.

“To the stables,” he said with a pleasant smile, hiding his trepidation.

“Leaving so soon? Your witcher hasn’t even got back yet. Planning to steal his horse and abandon him?”

“Hardly. And I don’t see why it’s your concern.”

“Come on, let’s just get ‘im,” another man said from somewhere in the small crowd.

Jaskier’s smile dropped and he started to back up. The men advanced on him and he belatedly noticed some were holding tools, brandishing them like weapons. “Come now. I’m sure whatever issue you have with me can be resolved peacefully.”

“We have no quarrel with you bard. It’s that filthy mutant you travel with.”

With that he aimed a fist at Jaskier. He ducked out of the way before it hit, giving him enough time to prepare for the next strike from his left. He quickly found himself surrounded, trying to block the attacks from all sides while also fighting back. He felt his fist connect with something, swiftly followed by a yowl from one of the men. He watched as the he clasped a hand over his nose as he stumbled back.

His victory was short lived however as his legs were swept from under him in his distraction, sending him crashing to the ground. The air was knocked out of him and he struggled to draw in a breath. Boots began kicking at him and he curled into a ball, arms around his head to try and protect himself.

There was nothing he could do, surrounded as he was. Any attempt to get back up only resulted in a kick to his head or chest so he just lay there in the dirt. The men above him laughed and shouted and they seemed to draw a small crowd as he could spot more people standing behind his attackers, watching and laughing at his misfortune. Bastards, the lot of them.

Eventually the relentless assault let up a little. He hoped that perhaps they had gotten bored now he had stopped fighting back. He glanced around only to find the man from before with a coil of rope and an ugly grin before a blinding pain in his head caused his vision to waver. He fought unconsciousness as much as possible but inevitably lost, sinking into inky blackness.

* * *

A leshen, that’s what had been plaguing the village. It was no surprise they had had to resort to asking for a witcher’s help. Even by his standards, this was a difficult beast to defeat. It could control the local wolves, ordering them to attack anyone who got too close to its territory.

Geralt had managed of course. He had tracked down its totems in the forest to draw its attention. The wolves had been the easy part, most going down with a single blow. The leshen itself hadn’t show up until well after the sun had set. The fight was hard, having to dodge the roots springing up from the ground to trap him in place as well as avoiding the leshen’s attacks. He had succeeded, a few well-timed blasts of igni and the bite of his steel sword and it had eventually gone down.

He had collected its head and made his way back to the village. It was almost dawn when he set foot on the packed dirt road. He knocked on the alderman’s door, not really caring if he woke the man. The whole village hated him, hated that they needed him. He couldn’t wait to be gone. The old man didn’t appear until Geralt had almost knocked his door down with his knocking.

He yelled at the witcher, telling him to leave. Geralt demanded his pay. The man refused. When threatening him didn’t work, he decided it wasn’t worth spilling blood over. They would just have to go unpaid this time. If Jaskier was around he may have been able to get the man to pay at least a fraction of the promised coin, but the bard was nowhere to be seen.

Usually he would come bounding up to him as soon as he returned, first checking him over for injuries before launching into recounting what he’d been up to while the witcher was away. This time the bard had remained absent. Perhaps he was still asleep somewhere.

After leaving the severed head at the alderman’s door, still oozing foul black ichor, he made his way to the tavern. As soon as he entered, he received a cold look from the tavern keeper. “We don’t serve your kind here. Get out.”

“I’m just looking for the bard.”

“Well he’s not here. Now go.”

Asking any further questions would be useless so he left. Perhaps he had camped in the forest. He headed to the stable to see if Roach was still there with all of their stuff. She greeted him with a huff of air, nuzzling at his hair. Geralt checked to see if Jaskier had taken anything. He hadn’t, his bedroll still tied to the rest of his belongings.

“Where is he Roach?” he asked, knowing he wouldn’t get a reply. He went back outside, hoping to figure out where he had gone. The locals had started to wake now, some already heading out to the fields or setting up market stalls. All of them cast wary glances at him. He ignored them but couldn’t help the feeling that something had happened while he was gone. It was as though Jaskier had simply disappeared. There was no trace of him to be found.

“Why are you still here, mutant?” one man called from across the street. “You’ve killed the monster so leave.”

“I’m not going until I’ve found the bard. Where is he?” he growled. He was in no mood for mind games.

“No idea. Now piss off.”

He continued to wander around the houses, hoping to find even a scent trail. It seemed Jaskier had been missing long enough for even that to fade. His wandering had garnered the attention of a few villagers whose eyes followed his every move. There was a small crowd watching him when he circled back around to the marked, murmuring to one another at the edges. They were too quiet for him to pick up on what they were saying but he could detect their scents. The stank of fear, their hearts beating fast. Beneath the overwhelming smell was a weaker, more subtle scent. Guilt. They had done something to Jaskier.

“Where is he?” he shouted. All eyes turned to him. No one said a word. “I’m not leaving your pathetic village without him, so where is Jaskier?”

No one came forward. With a frustrated grunt he swiftly made his way back to Roach, preparing to go out and search for the bard. As he was securing the last of their bags, a young woman, barely more than a girl came in. She smelt of fear but less so than the other villagers. When she simply stood there he turned to face her.

“What do you want?” he asked.

“Please don’t hurt me, witcher. I just want to help,” she squeaked.

“I won’t hurt you. Do you know where Jaskier is?”

“N-not exactly. They tied him up, took him out to the woods somewhere. To the east.”

“Thank you,” he said as he led Roach outside. Once in the saddle he turned back to the girl. “You’re better than the rest of them. So long.” With that he headed back into the woods, the opposite direction from where he had come from that morning.

He picked up a very faint trail leading from the village through the undergrowth. He followed it for twenty minutes, deeper into the trees. He had to dismount eventually as the path became too narrow for Roach to pass through safely. “Jaskier!” he called, hoping the bard could hear him. There was the possibility he had been knocked out or gagged, preventing him from answering.

The path trailed away, becoming almost Indistinguishable. The only clues he had now were the broken stems of the plants around him to give any indication of where Jaskier had been left. He just hoped the villagers hadn't gone too far. He called the bard’s name again, listening closely for any reply.

There was a rustling in the undergrowth somewhere behind him. Likely nothing more than a fox but his instincts told him to investigate. He headed in the direction the noise had come from. “Jaskier? Is that you?”

There was a muffled groan and suddenly Geralt was rushing forward. He broke through the bushes and found himself stood at the top of a small dip in the earth. At the bottom lay Jaskier, hands bound behind his back and ankles tied together, a piece of cloth stuffed in his mouth.

Geralt rushed to his side, already unsheathing his hunting knife to cut the ropes away. Once Jaskier’s hands were free, the bard pulled the cloth out of his mouth while the witcher worked on freeing his legs.

“I didn’t do anything this time, I swear," he said, voice raspy.

“I don’t doubt it. That place was against us from the start.”

“How did you find me?”

“Someone gave me a tip off about what happened. How badly are you hurt?” Geralt had immediately seen the black eye the bard was sporting. He didn’t know what other injuries he had sustained.

“Not too badly. Just a few bruises I think.”

“Hmm. Come on, Roach is nearby. Let’s get the hell out of here.” He stood, holding a hand out to help Jaskier to his feet. The bard swayed momentarily before righting himself. It was a short walk back to where he had left Roach. “Get on,” Geralt said, indicating to the saddle.

“Y-You want me to ride Roach?”

“Just get on the horse.”

It hadn’t gone unnoticed by the witcher how Jaskier kept his breathing shallow and seemed to be favouring his left side. If there was any time he would allow him to ride, it may as well be now.

He watched as Jaskier scrambled into the saddle, only needing to give him a slight boost to get up. He knew Jaskier could ride, had seen him mount a horse a number of times. His injuries must be affecting him more than he wanted to admit.

Geralt took the reins and led them back toward the village so they could join the main road. He wouldn’t take them back through, but they needed to get back on track so skirting around would be the best idea. They walked in silence for maybe five minutes before Jaskier finally spoke. “How did the hunt go? What monster did you face this time?”

“It was a leshen. It’s been controlling the local wolves.”

“Were you hurt?”

Geralt turned to give him a slightly incredulous look. Jaskier had been beaten, knocked out, tied up and left in a forest overnight and he was worried about the witcher. “No, just a few scratches.”

“Good.”

“What about you?”

“Huh?”

“How do you feel?”

“Sore. I don’t think anything’s broken.” He fell silent for a moment. “I did try to fight back you know. Broke a man’s nose. But there were too many of them, they knocked me to the ground. Wasn’t much I could do from there.”

“Hmm. I shouldn’t have left you behind.”

“I doubt I would’ve been much safer around a pack of wolves and a leshen. Don’t worry about it, it’s not your fault.”

Geralt had to admit he had a point about the wolves. He heard the bard moving around in the saddle and soon their journey was accompanied by the gentle plucking of lute strings. Jaskier began humming to himself, occasionally muttering a few lyrics under his breath. Apparently, this adventure was worthy of a song, although he was sure many of the facts would be lost to poetic nonsense.

He could almost trick himself into believing nothing had happened, that this was just another day and that Jaskier had simply rolled his ankle or something equally uninteresting. It was nice, how normal the bard could make him feel, although he vowed to never return to this village again.

**Author's Note:**

> Not super happy with the ending but I hope the rest of it makes up for it.
> 
> Come say hi to me on [tumblr!](https://blaidd-gwyn.tumblr.com/)


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